


It’s Nice to Have A Friend

by blueboxesandtrafficcones



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2019 [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Childhood Friends, Developing Friendships, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Male-Female Friendship, Song: It's Nice to Have a Friend (Taylor Swift), Time Skips, not a song fic, twenty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxesandtrafficcones/pseuds/blueboxesandtrafficcones
Summary: Rose and James meet on her first day at a new school - and the rest, as they say, is history.  Snapshots from their progression from school mates, to friends, to lovers over twenty years.Based on a song of the same name (but not a song!fic)
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560049
Comments: 17
Kudos: 44
Collections: 31 Days of Ficmas 2019





	It’s Nice to Have A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Day 26 of 2019′s 31 Days of Ficmas
> 
> Prompt: Friend
> 
> Again, not a songfic, just inspired by the song of the same name (which I obviously don't own etc)

** _Six Years Old_ **

Rose Tyler sat on the edge of her seat, holding her breath as she stared up at the clock. She only had a vague idea of how to tell time, but she knew her numbers, and her mum had said- had _promised_ \- that as soon as the big hand was on the twelve and the little one on the three school would be over and she could go home.

 _Home_ , she scoffed, resolutely ignoring whatever her teacher was saying – she could barely understand her anyway. _We may live there now, but it’s not_ home. Home was London, the Powell Estate, where Mickey and Cousin Mo and Shareen and Keisha and Bev were. Home was that tiny pink flat, with their pictures on the wall and the markings on the kitchen doorframe showing Rose’s growth.

The ‘home’ that Jackie meant wasn’t that; it was the flat a few blocks away from the school, easy walking distance, where they knew no one and everybody talked funny, yet they looked at _her_ as if _Rose_ was the one talking weird. _I_ hate _Glasgow_ , Rose fumed, narrowing her gaze further at the clock and trying to hold back tears. _I hate school, and Scotland, and I hate Mum for making us move here, an’ I hate Dad for dying and leaving us and letting her_ do _this._

The bell rang then, startling her as everyone around her bust into action, talking and laughing as they gathered their books. Rose rushed to join them, grateful for the day to finally be done.

Hat and coat firmly situated, backpack on, she followed the stream of kids out into the hallway and then out the doors into the sunlight. Looking around her eyes widened, panic starting in her chest as she realized she couldn’t remember which way to go. _Mummy said follow the kids_ , she reminded herself, biting her lip as she watched them stream in every conceivable direction, none of which looked familiar. _But which ones?_

Tentatively she inched towards the sidewalk, standing in the middle and looking left and right, hoping something would look familiar.

Nothing did.

A boy from her class bumped into her from behind, knocking her down, and it was the final straw – sitting on the ground Rose burst into tears, drawing her knees up and hiding her face, sobbing. _I want to go home!_

“Uh, ‘scuse me, are you okay?”

Sensing someone crouching down in front of her Rose lifted her head, using the sleeves of her coat to wipe her eyes as she looked at them. It was another boy from her class, one of the few who hadn’t teased her throughout the day, and she blinked at him. “Me?”

He looked kind, with brown hair and brown eyes, and a little familiar otherwise. “Yes, you,” he smiled. “Do you need help?” He stood then leaned down, offering her his hands, and after a moment she accepted, letting him pull her to her feet.

“Thanks,” she sniffled, fixing her backpack straps and shuffling her feet.

“You’re new, aren’t you?”

Rose narrowed her eyes, but nodded. “I just moved here from London over Christmas.”

“That stinks,” he shrugged, before glancing behind him. “I think you live in my building – Burns House?”

She had to think for a moment, before agreeing. “Yeah.” She sighed; it sounded similar to Bucknall House, and she’d give _anything_ to be there right now.

“D’you want to walk together?”

Her first instinct was to argue that she was capable of finding her own way home _thank you very much_ , then reconsidered. He didn’t look like he was teasing her, wasn’t smirking over her shoulder at friends as some of the boys who’d tried to talk to her at recess had, and he _did_ look familiar from the courtyard, maybe… “Okay.”

“Allons-y!” He turned on his heel and started walking, Rose quickly falling into step.

“What does that mean? Is it Scottish?”

Her new friend glanced at her, before shaking his head. “It’s French,” he said knowledgably, “it means ‘let’s go’.”

“Then why not just _say_ that?”

“Because it’s more fun.” He shrugged. “Why’d you move to Glasgow?”

Rose sniffled. “My dad died in October. Mum got a job here.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about your dad.” He was quiet for a minute before offering softly, “My parents died last year. My aunt moved up here to be with me.”

“I’m sorry.”

They walked in silence for a minute, Rose watching her feet as she thought about her dad. “It’s not fair,” she said abruptly. “They shouldn’t be allowed to leave until we’re grown up.”

“They shouldn’t!” the boy agreed quickly. “Until we’re old. Like, _really_ old.”

“Like, _thirty_!”

They giggled together as a brisk wind blew, making Rose shiver and try to hide her hands in her sleeves. _Where did my gloves go?_

“No mittens?”

Rose shook her head, frowning as she patted her pockets. “Oh, no! I must’ve lost them,” she moaned. _Or they were stolen. Like my snack._

“Here.” He pulled one of his off, holding it out to her. “You can use this.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“Nah, I can do this,” he said brightly, wriggling his now-bare hand inside the remaining mitten. It was a tight fit, but after a moment both were covered. “See, if I link my hands, then it’s perfect!”

He looked silly, his hands clasped in front of him and covered in a solitary mitten, but he didn’t seem to mind, and biting her lip, Rose copied him. “Hey, that works!” she was delighted to discover, lacing her fingers. “Thanks!”

His answering grin made her stomach flip, and eyes going wide, she stared down at the sidewalk, hoping her hat hid how her ears were getting hot. A light dusting of snow covered everything, one she didn’t remember being there that morning, but just underneath a hint of color peeked out. Stopping, she scrapped away some of the snow with her toe to reveal a picture made with sidewalk chalk, one she abruptly recognized. “Hey, I remember coming this way this morning!” she said in surprise, looking up at him.

“That’s good?” He blinked at her, head tilted and looking like an owl from her picture books. “I mean, why wouldn’t we be going back the way we came?”

Rose shrugged. “I dunno.”

He shrugged too. “Okay.”

They started walking again, and only a minute later the building came into view. It was taller than Bucknall House, but not as long, and a little prettier. If it wasn’t so far from her friends, it might’ve been an okay place to live, if they couldn’t have stayed where they were.

He held the door, letting Rose in first, and they climbed to the fourth floor together. He turned left as she went right, and they paused to smile awkwardly. “Thanks for walking me home,” Rose said shyly, dragging her toe along the floor. “I… couldn’t remember how.”

“It’s on the same street,” he shrugged, “just turn left when you leave school. Can’t miss it. At least, I haven’t, and Aunt Sarah says I’ve my head in the clouds all day.”

Rose giggled. “Still, thanks.”

They turned, and she trudged towards her door dejectedly. She already knew her mum wasn’t home, was supposed to be at work, and she wasn’t thrilled at the idea of being home alone. It would’ve been fine in London, she could’ve gone to any one of her friends’ flats, but here she knew no one.

“Um, Rose, is it?”

Hand against the door, key halfway in the lock, she turned to find him still standing at top of the steps, hands shoved in his pockets. “Yeah. Oh!” She’d thoughtlessly put the glove in her pocket, but pulling it out, she hurried back to him. “Sorry!”

“‘S’okay, wasn’t what I meant, though, thanks. Um, I was wondering… wanna hang out? Maybe? I got a new video game console for Hogmanay.”

Rose didn’t even look back at her own door, nodding eagerly. “Sure! Sounds like fun.” She followed him to his own door, pausing as he pushed it open. “I, um, don’t-”

“James,” he interrupted, grinning, before calling in, “Aunt Sarah, I’m home! I brought a friend.”

_A friend._

Smiling to herself, she felt a little bubble of hope rising in her chest for the first time since her Dad died.

_It’s nice to have a friend._

* * *

**_Nineteen years old_ **

Humming to herself, Rose unpacked the last box in her bedroom and looked around. After spending the better part of nine months in St Andrews, living alone and being independent, it was strange to be back in her childhood bedroom. _Hopefully Mum respects my request to let me be free._ She’d made it clear that she wanted to be an equal partner in the flat for the summer, including rent and bills, in exchange for her independence. No curfew, no guilt for the hours she kept, to be a roommate.

She snorted. _That’ll be the day._

Her mobile buzzed and she dove for it. Reading the message she’d been expecting, she didn’t bother trying to rationalize the butterflies in her stomach. Instead, she grabbed a bottle of wine and her comforter, slipping out of the empty flat and darting up the stairs. Heart pounding, and not from the exertion, she burst out onto the roof, feeling all of her stress and worry melt away at the beaming smile waiting for her.

“Rose!”

“James!” With a shriek of laughter she threw herself at him, and he spun her around twice before setting her on her feet and pulling her close. They hugged tightly for what felt like forever, soothing the wrinkles in her soul that had developed since they’d last seen each other at Christmas. For the thousandth time since he’d hesitantly announced his plans to go to Cambridge, she cursed the physical distance between the schools.

“How are you?” he asked, finally pulling back and stooping to pick up her abandoned stuff, leading her towards where he was already set up.

“Better, now,” she answered truthfully enough, plopping down on a pillow and grinning up at him, thrilled beyond measure to see him again. Texts and calls, while helpful, were no substitute for her best friend. “You?”

“Same.” He settled cross-legged beside her, uncorking the wine and pouring them each a generous helping. “What’s new?”

Accepting the plastic wineglass, she took one look at his genuinely-caring face, those soulful brown eyes, and promptly burst into tears.

* * *

“Right, twenty questions,” James said brusquely, once her sobs subsided. “Ready?”

Rose hiccupped, straightening up and wiping at her eyes carefully. “Fine, but that’s your first question.”

“Fair enough. Go.” He handed her a paper napkin and her wineglass, sitting up straight and waiting expectantly.

Taking a long pull off the glass, she stared out towards the sunset for a moment. The sky was a gorgeous blending of pinks and oranges, truly spectacular, and she focused intently on it as she asked, “Dating anyone?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. How was your first year? Really.” He’d always been upbeat, so bloody _positive_ about uni, about what an amazing experience it would be for both of them, but she’d seen the truth in his eyes. Facing him she raised an eyebrow, reminding him of their promise the very first time they’d played twenty questions, the first week they’d met.

_Promise to tell the truth?_

_Always. I swear, Rose Tyler, I will_ never _lie to you._

James sighed, expression falling, and he lay back against the pillows. “I’ve… been pretty stressed out lately,” he admitted, closing his eyes.

Rose stretched out as well, nestling her head next to his and staring up at the sky above them. “Yeah, me too.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head, and she did as well, feeling a thrill at how close he was. From here she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the light brush of freckles that would emerge as the summer progressed, even the product he denied putting in his hair.

He smiled and she did too, her heart catching and then leaping when his smile dropped, as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Something he found there gave him a jolt of confidence, for his eyes widened before crinkling, and fingertips brushed, hesitantly, against the back of her own hand. Spreading her fingers she let them tangle with his, blushing and darting her eyes up to the sky.

The sun sank, the bright sky fading to dark, and they never moved, barely holding hands, hope beating a tattoo in her chest as she let her heart dream.

“You’re my best friend,” he eventually whispered, when a clock in the distance struck midnight.

“Mine too.” She smiled up at the sky. A shooting star passed overhead, flaring bright for only a moment before burning out, but she didn’t bother making a wish; the only thing she could wish for was next to her.

_It’s nice to have a friend._

* * *

**_Twenty-Six Years Old_ **

Bells began to ring as they broke apart, the cheering of the guests drowning out the Minister’s words. Pure joy flooded through Rose as they turned to face everyone, her cheeks beginning to ache from smiling so much.

James lifted their joined hands victoriously, making her laugh, before squeezing her palm. The pressure made her rings (one ten months old, the other ten minutes) dig into her fingers, but she didn’t care; rather, she liked the physical evidence of their vows. She looked at him to find him watching her, that wonderful awestruck expression on his face she hoped never faded, her smile growing brighter still.

“Run,” he whispered when he had her attention, and with identical giggles, they took off up the aisle, bursting out into the weak January sun. Their family and friends streamed out behind them, and they waited anxiously as everyone formed lined the path from the church steps to the waiting car.

“You look unbelievably incredible,” James murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leaning in.

Rose snuggled closer, grateful for his body heat in the winter air. “You look pretty handsome yourself, babe,” she giggled, beaming up at him. “I’m so happy right now.”

“Me too.”

His head dipped as she surged up, lips meeting in a tender kiss that drew cheers from their guests. Breaking apart they saw everyone was ready and made their way down the stairs, James helping her so she didn’t trip in her heels. Their friends tossed rice over them as they passed, and Rose was thrilled to see it cover the ground. They’d chosen the date carefully, had hoped and wished and prayed for snow, but it hadn’t been meant to be; the rice was enough, though, to give the illusion of powder.

James helped her into the car before jogging around to the other side, and she smiled and waved out the window at their friends. They would see them shortly at the reception, but they had an appointment to keep first.

* * *

They chatted and giggled during the short drive, toasting with champagne before Rose changed her shoes. They hadn’t told anyone what they were doing, had left it deliberately vague because they didn’t think their loved ones would understand, not really.

When they pulled up she waited for him to leap out and come around, shooing away the driver in favor of opening her door himself. Rose let him help her to her feet, using her momentum to buss her lips against his cheek. “See you in a minute,” she giggled, as he draped her cloak over her.

Adjusting the skirts of her wedding dress so they wouldn’t drag on the ground, she walked quickly to her assigned spot, the memory still strong after twenty years. “Ready!” Turning her back on the street she pretended to study the school building, swaying slightly back and forth as she waited, humming to herself.

“You’re new, aren’t you?”

She spun on her heel, smiling widely, letting her eyes rake over him. Tall and lean, no one knew better than her the muscles that hid behind his deceptively slight frame. Spiky brown hair and glittering brown eyes, he was a childhood dream come to life – it had been so long ago now, she couldn’t remember if he matched her idea of perfection or was the basis for the ideal. To sweeten the deal, he held their champagne flutes in hand.

“I am, and I can’t remember the way home,” she clucked her tongue, shaking her head.

James nodded, looking intrigued. “I think we’re in the same building – care to walk together?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He passed over her glass before offering her his arm, and she happily laced her own through it as they turned onto the sidewalk. Car trailing behind them down the street as they strolled, recreating their first moments together twenty years earlier to the day, though now instead of getting to know each other’s past, they planned their future.

“I’m glad we decided to do this,” James sighed happily, straightening his arm in favor of taking her hand in his. “I know it may be cheesy, but… this day, twenty years ago, was the best day of my life, even if I didn’t know it. I mean, I suspected, but how could I have _known_?”

Rose rested her head against his bicep, peeking up at him. “Doesn’t matter how cheesy you are, babe- ‘cause I’m right there with you. I got your back.”

“And I’ve got yours. Every day, for the rest of our lives.”

They stopped walking to kiss, though they were both giggling too hard for it to be much of one. As they separated the first snowflakes began to fall, making Rose gasp in delight. “Oh, yes!”

James laughed, pressing his lips to her forehead tenderly. “I love you, Rose Tyler,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms, where she went willingly.

“I love _you_ , James Smith.”

They started walking again, admiring the perfection of the tiny flakes.

“So, _now_ will you tell me our honeymoon plans?” she teased, as their old building came into view. Over time they had all moved back to London, James first and then his aunt Sarah, Rose following after uni and her mother shortly after that, but it was still, in many ways, home. _What a different two decades make,_ Rose admired, thinking fondly of the rooftop that had seen that first, tentative touch of hands, his sweet stuttering asking for a first date; the stairwell where they shared their first, passionate snog; his flat, where they first played and had a sleepover in tents in the living room; hers, the site of their first _adult_ sleepover, where they made love and heartfelt promises.

“On Monday we fly to Rome and rent a car,” he boasted, looking pleased with himself at her squeal.

“It’s Friday – what about between now and then?”

James hummed, leading her towards the idly car, detour completed. “I was thinking video games and addition worksheets, and maybe a kickaround?”

“Babe,” Rose scolded, laughing, as they settled in the warm car and headed for the reception. “Really.”

Stretching his arm around her, he leaned back in his seat and swept his eyes over her, lingering at her best before meeting her eyes. “Oh, we’re staying in bed. The whole weekend.”

“Well if you insist.”

Nothing could stop their happy giggles as they sipped champagne and giggled together, Rose leaning her head on his chest and watching the city go bye.

_It’s nice to have a friend._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
